"This is my favorite spot." She said out loud to no one in particular. There was no one around that could hear anyway.
She laid out the towel on the soft sand; it was a light blue towel, the same hue as the sky on a clear day. But she could remember a time when it was dark blue and brand new.
She could remember picking it out in the store just like it was yesterday. The store is long gone now, just a ghost of a memory where a parking lot now stands.
She smiled to herself as she ran her fingers along the threadbare surface of the towel, as if she was caressing an old friend.
She sat down carefully on top of it, her gaze turning to the surf ahead of her. The soft crash of the waves on the shore made her feel sleepy, but she resisted the urge to nap.
If would be any second now and she didn't want to miss it.
She remembered the first time she came out here. The cold wind was blowing in off the water, pushing the heat back in land.
Behind her were the sounds of the party still going on. She turned to look and should still see the dull glow of the dance floor just behind the rise of the sand dunes.
Like ghosts the figures came over the rise, clothing dropping like autumn leaves. Laughing voices charging towards the surf.
Bare skin dimpling at the first touch of the cold salt water, the sound of splashing filling the air as hormone enflamed bodies charged at each other.
She remembered the feeling of Johnny's knob her hand. The surprised look on his face when she gripped it. She thought about making some smart teasing comment about it, but she didn't.
Instead she just winked at her big brother. Just thinking about it now made her blush even though Johnny was long gone now too, just like the store.
No one else could see what she was doing, her hand and his hips hidden under the water. The look of panic on his face was the only thing someone would have spotted and it was even worse when she started to stroke him. He was so young and strong back then, how could she have possibly forgotten?
She remembered the way his knob jerked in her hand, the brief glazed look on his face, then the way the rock hard skin started to get soft.
She smiled to herself; she was so bold back then.
Johnny never touched her. She wasn't sure if he wanted to or not, maybe he was just scared. Now she wished that they had talked about it. Maybe things might have been different now.
The splashing in the dark surf faded, along with the laughter, and then finally the ghosts faded away too.
The edge of the horizon just began to glow orange now, burning at the coming of a new day. Her hand continued to stroke the towel underneath her, like she was trying to reassure a nervous friend.
She remembered running barefoot along the sand on a spring afternoon, the smell of fresh flowers lofting from the field beyond the sand. The scent fighting with the odor of salt water, cast back and forth on the whims of the wind.
.... There is more of this story ...